Water And Ice
by MilliniumLint
Summary: Believe it or not, once upon a time, Dallas Winston was a child. A free, clean child, as pure a little boy could be growing up in New York. As simple and joyful as a stream of cool, clean water, sparkling in the sun. That was, until he spent a year in jail at age ten. This story is about young Dally s year in jail, and how he turned from water to ice.
1. Jaded Ice

**Water And Ice**

**Chapter 1 Jaded Ice**

I winced as I heard the sound of my old man`s fist slam into my ma`s face, knocking her backwards.

I was hiding under the table. I know, real tuff, but when your drunk-as-a-skunk old man is in really violent mood, it`s really scary. I`m ten almost eleven years old, and all I can do is crawl under the table and cry as I listen to him beat my ma till she`s near dead.

His drunken laughter rang through the house and a mixture of anger and hopelessness surged though me. I wiggled out and stood up, trembling a I saw him slap her, hard.

My old man cussed her out so awful, even with livin in Mew York all my life, I felt myself get all red. My ma started bawlin` as he swung his fist back.

"Stop," I yelled. "Goddammit, stop it,please!" I grabbed his arm to stop it. He jerked away from me and slammed his fist into my nose. You hear the bone crack and blood was drippin` down my face onto my shirt but I hardly noticed. Broken nose were something that happened around here.

He grinned at me, obviously please at the damage he`d done. "Now, now, Dallas." My ol` man said in a mocking voice. "that`s no way to talk to your elders, is it?"

He grabbed my ma and twisted her arm behind her back. "Am I right, Melanie?" Her eyes were wide, terrified as my ol` man glared at her. Ma slowly nodded, choking back sobs.

Then my old man flicked out a blade.

"No," I whispered. "Please Daddy, no, no,no." I hadn`t called him Daddy since I was three.

"Why?" He smirked. "Wanna go first?"

I felt something heavy knock me over before I blacked out.

**I know, a bit short, but this is just kind of the build up for what`ll happen next. You`ll see. Oh, and by the way, please try to vote on my newest poll. **


	2. Puncture Wound

**Water and Ice**

**Chapter 2 Puncture Wound**

**I don`t own The Outsiders. Sorry I forgot to mention that last chapter. **

When I woke up I was lying on the grass outside my house. I heard screaming. My first thought was _run_.

I ran down the road, panting but pushing myself to go faster, longer. Fear was coursing through my veins and my vision was a blur. My head was throbbing and my right leg ached, but that didn`t stop me until I slammed right into The Pit Stopper, the local gas station**(I don`t even think that`s a real place, I just made it up)**.

I dragged myself inside, sighing as the blast of the cool air conditioner hit my flushed, sweaty face. My heart was pounding so hard it was painful and my sides hurt. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall for a second, catching my breath.

Then I remembered, my ma. Oh, shit! She was still at my place and so was my drunk-ass ol` man. He could`ve killed Ma by now. I grabbed the door to leave, panicking at thought of what could be happening this very second, when I noticed something. One of my pant legs was damp, and I felt something warm and wet trickling down my leg. I glanced down and saw a trail of blood.

"Holy shit kid, what the hell happened?" I heard a man`s voice ask. I ignored him and quickly locked myself in the men`s room before I pulled down my jeans.

Oh no. I made a little noise in my throat. A sticky, dark red mess covered my right leg and more of the thick, hot liquid was coming out of a gash in my thigh. My old man had gotten me with his blade.

Blade... he had a blade. His drunken smirk. _Why? You wanna go first? _He had a blade, and he was going to use it on my ma. My ma. He`ll kill her. He`ll kill here and you`re doing nothing but sitting here like the pathetic little baby he says you are.

_C`mon Dal, man up,_ I told myself. I grabbed some toilet paper and wrapped it around my thigh, double knotting the bandage and pulled my blood-stained pants back on. I`d had worse injuries.

I limped out of the restroom, hand in my pocket where my switchblade was at, going as fast as I could. I had to get to my ma. My ol` man can`t hurt her, he can`t. She`s the only thing left that I consider family.

"Kiddo, where you think you`re going," The same man that had asked me earlier about my leg grabbed my shoulders and looked at me, concerned. I recognized him as the store owner. "Who did that to you?"

"My old man, now let go," I told him, squirming in his strong grip.

"That looks pretty bad, kid," The store owner insisted. "You aren't going nowhere, please, just sit down you a moment. You`ll need stitches I bet."

"My ma she, she," I begged, stumbling over my words. I had to get to her. The sense of panic was overwhelming and I had to get to my ma, I had to!

The man grabbed my chin and tilted it up, so I was looking him in the eye.

"Look kid, you`re hurt and you are not going anywhere until we get you some help."

"Get away from me!" I screamed. I flicked out my blade and sunk it into his lower side, near his hip. He let out a gasp and stumbled back.

"I uh, um..." I squeaked, my eyes wide, as a dark red stain began to spread from where my switchblade protruded from his side.

Oh, no, oh no, oh my god what have I done now? No, no, no this isn`t happening. This isn`t happening, this, this. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!

I tore out of The Pit Stopper, running as fast as I could as the blistering summer sun glared down at me. my leg hurt so bad, the pain was so excruciating it was nearly numb. My t-shirt clung to my back with sweat, my pants were wet and heavy, soaked with my own blood. I didn`t care. I kept going. I had to.

I hadn`t gotten very far when I heard sirens. The fuzz.

A pair of hands grabbed me and spun me around to look at my face.

"We`ve got him," The cop shouted. "What`s your name?" He asked roughly.

"D-D-Dallas Winston," I stammered. "P-please lemme go, please. I-I-I didn`t mean t-to, I`m s-s-sorry, I r-really am. You gotts b-believe mr, my ma she she-you gotta save her!"

"Dallas Winston, " Another cop said. "You are under arrest for attempted murder." He pulled my arms behind me and handcuffed me.

"No, n-no, you, you c-can`t! Please, no! Please, no, no, no!" I screamed, crying. 'I`m only ten, no, no, no! I want my mom, I want my mom, I have to get my mom!"

The first cop picked me up and put mean in the back of the police car, oblivious to my hysterical screams and struggles. Oblivious to the people staring and whispering. The people that watched as I was torn away from life, as I knew it.

**Oooh, dramatic. Poor Dal. Hoped you enjoyed all this and I apologize if it`s a little short, but this seemed like a good place to stop, ya dig? So yeah, review, follow, favorite, and for pete`s sake don`t be a soc!**


	3. Shiver

**Water And Ice **

**Chapter 3: Shiver**

**Don`t own the Outsiders...duh.**

The drive was miserable.

Fine I`ll admit it , I spent most of the time crying. Not just a few cute little tears, but full-on choking, gasping, nose-running, messy little-kid sobs. I felt like crap. The car was hot, I was carsick and had puked twice, and I had to pee, but no matter how much I cried and asked if they could pull over, they ignored me. The handcuffs rubbed my wrists raw and my arms ached from being in that same position for so long.

I wanted my ma so bad it hurt.

Finally the car stopped and parked outside a building.

"Get out," One of the officers said. He had green eyes and skinny legs like a chicken.

I wiggled my way out with some difficulty, my leg hurt and my arms were out of commission, so it`s not like I could hold onto anything to balance. Meanwhile, the other cop, a guy with a Hitler mustache and beer belly was looking an the back seat of the car, which I`d made quite a mess of between my bleeding leg and motion sickness, with a ticked off expression on his face. Like I had gotten stabbed and barfed thanks to _his_ crazy driving on purpose.

"Hey, I did say to pull over," I pointed out.

"Yeah, and I have places to go, and in case you haven`t noticed, you haven`t pissed yourself, you haven`t bled to death, and we`re here," Hitler-Stache snapped. "So quit whining. He turned to Chicken-Legs. "Go take Dallas to the restroom and take him to go get his leg stitched up. Right now it my lunch break, so don`t expect me to be helping you." Hitler-Stache walked away with a scowl on his face and I really wanted to called him one of those names my ol` man screams when he`s drunk, but I didn`t. I won`t be like my old man. Never.

* * *

"What`s your name?" A pretty young women that introduced herself as Nurse Helen asked me as she gently cleaned the dried blood off my leg.

"Dallas Winston," I told her. "I`m ten."

"Dallas who did this to you?" She asked, blowing strands of her dark hair out of her face as she finished stitching the wound shut.

"I don`t matter," I muttered carelessly.

"Yes it does," Nurse Helen looked me in the eyes. "It does matter. it matters to us if your in trouble in some way. The police may seem pretty harsh, but if there is something going on in your home, they do care." Suddenly something cold pressed against my hot, sweaty chest.

"Breathe in and out," The nurse told me. I obeyed, frowning.

"What are doing?" I asked, confused.

"Listening to your heart," She said, and moved the cold thing around on my chest and back, asking me to breathe each time.

"I don`t like that thing," I commented as I swung my bare legs that didn`t quite reach the floor. I was glad she hadn`t told me to pull back on my bloody jeans. Sitting around without any pants on was kinda weird, exspecially in front of a girl, but it sure beat putting back on my disgusting, blood-stained pants.

"Well I`m all done with it, so you don`t have to worry," She said wrapped some clothe thingy around my arm.

'What the hell is that? A bracelet?" I blurted out as it began to tighten its hold on my arm.

Nurse Helen rolled her eyes. "That`s a blood pressure cuff. Honesly Dallas, haven`t you ever been to a doctor before?"

I shook my head. "nah, we`re too poor, and my ol` man don`t care to much about my health."

"He should," She muttered and continued taking out weird tools and looking in different places. "Now pull down your boxers." I did, blushing a little and-

"NO!" I shouted, backing away. "No! No! No! never do that to me again, never!" I shovered her away and was a about to pull up my underpants when the nurse put out her hand and stopped me.

"Dallas," She said in a calm voice. "I don`t think you understand. I was just checking you over. I was going to have you cough just to make sure nothing was wrong, that`s all."

"Really?" I said. "Cause that`s messed up, tryin to take advantage of a ten-year-old kid like me, I hope you know that."

"No Dally, I`m just doing my job, nothing else. there`s no reason to act like that," Nurse Helen said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, there is," I babbled nervously.

"Dallas, what`s your life like at home?" She asked and I stiffened.

"None of your business," I replied smoothly, trying to look like her words didn`t effect me. I know I sounded rude, and I felt bad about that, but well, there are just some things nobody needs to know about me.

"Fine," She said. "I`ll make a deal with you."

"Okay," I said slowly, unsure. My old man made deals with me sometimes, like the one time he said if I gave him money for more beer, than he would leave me alone that day. He lied.

"Dally, you`re hungry, aren`t you?" Nurse Helen asked.

I nodded. Of course I was hungry. All I had eaten today was some burnt toast and a Pepsi I swiped from my ol` man when he wasn`t paying attention.

She smiled, a really pretty smile that made her blue eyes sparkle. The she pulled out and package of cookies, a cup, and a bottle of milk.

"Dallas," She said. "If you tell me the truth, you can have this."

As soon said she said that, my mouth began to water and my stomach starting growling as if it were either hungry, angry, or I needed to take a shit. My old man never, ever, let me eat anything good, I just got the scraps. This offer was way, way to tempting.

"Fine," I said softly, and I told her. I told her everything, about how my old man touches me and beats me and barely gives me any food. How he hurts my ma too, and drinks and swears and practically runs the place. How he won`t let us shower that much or eat or get something to drink unless he says so, and never takes me for checkups or buys me new things. My shoes are so tight I can hardly feel my own toes and my clothes are filthy and way too small.

The nurse handed me the cookies and milk once I was finished.

"Thank-you Dally," She said sadly. "I`m really sorry to hear that you`re being treated like that. It shouldn`t be that way and I hope you know that. Once you are released we`ll make sure you don`t go back there."

I nodded. "But what about my ma, she`s still there. You have to go get her."

"We`ll make sure to sent someone to find her," She assured me, but I really didn`t feel so sure.

* * *

"Dallas, hurry the hell up, kid!" Yet another officer shouted as I dragged behind him. This cop had shiny dark hair, pimples all over his face, and looked a lot younger than the other officers.

"Sorry, sir," I mumbled, struggling to keep up with his long strides. "It`s my leg, I was stabbed earlier."

Pimples stopped and turned around. "Want me to carry you?"

Oh God. "Are serious?" I asked.

He shook his head and smirked. "Nope."

"Well wait up!" I yelled and limped over to him.

After a few moments of him walking and me stumbling I starting talking.

"Hey that nurse is nice, isn`t she?" When Pimples didn`t respond I continued. "I think she`s real pretty, I mean she has nice blue eyes. I have blue eyes. My ma says they`re a pretty baby blue. Hey, your eyes are blue too aren`t they? I like blue eyes, they kinda sparkle," Now he turned to look at me and rolled his eyes, I rolled them back.

"Hey this is kinda fun isn`t it, rollin` rollin` rollin`. Hey do you like Elvis? I do, I like listening to music, it feels good on my ears. I like my ears," I told him. "You have pretty ears. I can wiggle my ears, wanna see?" He wasn`t watching but I wiggled them anyway, cause ma says that even if you think you`re alone God is still watching you. I hope God thinks my wiggly ears are cool, and maybe I`ll get free pass into heaven. That would be tuff.

"Hey, where are we going?" I asked as we entered a room and he closed the door behind me.

"Take off your clothes," Pimples said. "We`re going to search you."

"Okay, I guess," I said, stripping off my sweaty shirt. "But please don`t touch me, I mean it."

"I won`t," Pimples promised. I finished undressing and handed him my clothes.

"Sorry," I added as he took them, looking a little grossed out at the sweaty, bloody clothing.

"Bend over," He said and I obeyed, feeling awkward as I crouched down on the floor, completely naked as he searched me, looking inside my mouth and rear to check for God-knows-what.

"All done," Pimples said finally. I stood up and stretched.

"Now what?" I blurted out. "Do I get to go home?"

My question wasn`t answered and we continued on to another room, where he made me shower, put mean in this ugly striped jumpsuit, then cut my hair real short and took pictures of me.

I had a feeling I wouldn`t be going home for a long time.

**So fellow greasers, what do you think of this poor, young Dally? Do you, like me, find his motor-mouth tendancies and childish thoughts adorable. Tell me what you think of the story, pretty please with Cherry Valence`s Coke on Dally?**

**PS: I did a lot of research and if I am correct this is how jail in-processing should go. Hope you enjoyed. **


	4. Flash Flood

**Chapter Four: Flash Flood**

**Hey, thanks for the support, reviews, favs, follows, and stuff! Luv ya!**

I wiggled my toes happily in the socks Pimples had given me. They didn`t let me have shoes with because of the laces, for safety reasons, but it didn`t matter to much to me. The socks were surprisingly comfy and it felt so good to be wearing something that fit.

"C`mon kid, I know those socks are fantastic and all," Pimples announced. "But we gotta get going."

"Okay!" I bounced up and grabbed his hand. "Where to next?"

"To your cell, you`ll been in there for till` next week, when we have your trial which will determine how long your sentence is, if you receive one." He explained patiently.

"Cell? What`s that?" I asked.

"A cell is a little room that you stay in with another person, your roommate." Pimples replied.

"Oh, cool!" I shouted.

"You bet," Pimples said, and actually smiled at me. He grabbed the bag he`d put together for me, filled with a toothbrush, toothpaste, extra pairs of underpants, deodorant, and other stuff I`d need.

After a few moments of walking towards my cell in silence, I stopped.

"Hey, um," I paused, for a moment, suddenly realizing I had no idea what this cop`s name was.

"Officer Mark," He informed me.

"Officer Mark, thanks for giving me all this stuff, the socks and underwear and toothbrush and everything, I haven`t gotten new stuff in a long time," I said.

"Eh, it`s nothin` kid," Officer Mark said with a shrug. He led me a few more steps and then stopped again in front of a cell. The cell had a toilet/sink thingy and a bunk bed.

"Here we are," He told me. "Yo Ross, we got you a roommate!" he shouted.

The young man in the bottom bunk poked his head up and glanced at me. He looked to be in about his late twenties with short dark hair, dark green eyes, freckles, and a nasty lookin` scar that started at his temple and ended at his cheek. I thought he looked real tuff.

"He`s a kid," My new roommate observed. "What the hell is a fucking kid doin` in a place like this?"

Officer Mark sighed. "Ross, this is New York City Jail _and _Juvenile Reformatory. There are children as well as adults here."

He grabbed his keys and opened the door.

"Welcome to your new home," Officer told me, pushing me inside.

* * *

For the next few hours I avoided Ross. I amused myself by sitting down on the floor and unloading my bag of things.

Officer Mark had given me five bars of soap, two tiny bottles of shampoo, two tubes of toothpaste, one toothbrush, three extra striped jumpsuits, three sticks of deodorant, five pairs of clean boxers and five clean pairs of socks.

I just sat there amazed, for the longest time. Feeling the clean stretchy fabric and cotton, smelling the gentle clean scent of the soap, shampoo and deodorant. Reeling in the fact that it was all mine!

It was all just so beautiful. The sight of the unopened toiletries, the sweet-smelling soap, untouched, carefully wrapped up in paper. The plain white underwear, neatly folded, free of stains and the thick, comfy-looking white socks bundled up in little balls.

It felt like Christmas morning.

Suddenly I felt something tap my shoulder and I flinched.

"Whoa, chill out little guy," My new roommate said, and sat down beside me. "Name`s James Ross."

"Dallas Winston," I told him. "And I`m not that little. I`m ten, almost eleven."

"Well I`m twenty six, so you are little to me," He replied. "Besides you`re tiny. How the hell did a little munchkin like you get in cooler"

"I stabbed somebody," I informed James, and slowly began to toss my new things back into the baggie.

He rose his eyebrows. "Seriously? Wow, I cannot imagine that. Well I raped somebody."

"What?" The word slipped out of my mouth before I could close it. He was a rapist? Oh, God, oh God. He seemed really nice but, oh my God. No. I hopped up and limped over to the bunk bed and quickly tried to climb up to top, my heart pounding in my chest.

Oh, ouch! I clenched my teeth and let out a hiss of pain.

"Oh, oh, oh, ow!" I moaned and hopped back down.

"What what hell kid?" James blurted out.

"It`s Dallas, " I snapped. "Now get away from me you rapist!"

James frowned, not moving an inch from where he stood.

After a few moments, he sighed and slipped out a package of cigarettes from his sleeve. "Look kid," He lit one of the smokes with a lighter he smuggled in his sleeve and stuck it in his mouth, inhaling deeply and took it out, blowing out rings of smoke. "Yeah, I raped somebody, and I`ve done some pretty shitty stuff, but I was rip-roarin`when that happened. I really wish I could take it back, so don`t be judging me like that." James paused and took a drag out of his cigarette. "I mean, I bet my balls a ten year old kid like you probably didn`t really mean to stab nobody, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I was just trying to get past the guy so I could get back home to my ma, he was just in the way, and I had to get to her, my ma. My ol` man was beatin` her. He beats me too." I bent down and rolled up one of the pant legs on my jumpsuit all the way up to my thigh and pointed at my bandage. "That`s were he stabbed me when I was standin` up for her."

"Oh," He didn`t seem to know what to say. "That sucks, but at least you was trying to help, not hurt." He pulled out another weed and held it out to me. "Wanna smoke?"

"No way!" I responded, shaking my head. "Smoking`s bad, isn`t it?"

James shrugged and took his smoke out of his mouth, ground it under his heel and kicked the but under his bed.

"Well, if ya don`t do it right, you`ll hack up a lung or two," He took out two cancer sticks and offered one to me. "C`mon, it`ll calm ya down. I can teach ya how to smoke, if ya want me to."

I hesitated but took the cigarette out of his hand.

James shook his head. "You`re holding it wrong, here." He took the cancer stick outta my hand and placed it between my middle and index finger, closing my hand around it. "Like this." He quickly lit both of our smokes and took a drag off his.

I copied his movement, pulling my cigarette to my mouth and inhaling deeply.

Oh God. The smoke burned my throat and my nose, filling up my lungs with the thick smell of tobacco, making me double over, coughing.

"Shoot kid," he muttered. "Ya don`t inhale _that_ much."

* * *

I spent the rest of the day learning how to smoke, and by the time it was lights out, I could almost blow a prefect ring of smoke. Overall, I was in a good mood, yet in seemed as if the light of the day shed light on my mood and made me forget my situation.

By the time we turned out the lights and climbed into bed, me in bottom since I couldn`t get to the top with my leg, and James on top, I was left alone in the darkness with my thoughts.

All I could think know was how alone I was, and how even though I had my roommate and the nurse and Officer Mark, I barely knew them and they weren`t my ma. My ma, alone being beaten to a pulp by my ol` man. My ol` man, who I had once called Daddy, but now simply called him my ol` man, because I now realized, I didn`t have a daddy, I never did. He`d become nothing but just an old man to me. Speaking of them, the nurse, the pretty lady that had been so nice said they`d find her, right? Had they found her yet, would they? Will they? Is my ma gonna be safe?

And what about James? He seemed alright, but still I could tell he`s been to jail before. Plus, he freaking raped somebody! Sure he said he was drunk but would if he was drunk now? Can you get drunk of cigarette? I don`t feel drunk, but he`s probably smoked more than me. What if James was just pretending to be nice, and when I fall asleep he'll touch me or something?

Oh my God, and the smoke I had, what if it takes time to feel the effects, and I do get drunk and do something stupid? What if I embarrass myself, or I sin? Isn`t what I did today a sin, stabbing that guy? Oh God, am I gonna go to hell?

I could not, and did not fall asleep that night. Nope, I was way too scared and worried and upset for such nonsense.

I spent that night crying my eyes out.

**Aww, how sad:(. Maybe if y`all will review, it`ll cheer him up!**


End file.
